Growing up I dissected three frogs. The first was in the fifth grade, and it was incredible. I looked forward to it for weeks, and when the moment came the only disappointment was that we had to use scissors and not scalpels to do the cutting. The second came during the sixth grade – I changed schools, and my new school simply worked on a different time-line. I remember one of my classmates saying that his mother told him that today we would get a glimpse of who wants to be a doctor. This time around was even better, because I knew what was coming (like the scissors!) and could be better prepared. And the third time was on my own. I asked my sixth grade science teacher if I could purchase another frog and dissect it at home…he looked at me kind of strange, but obliged. I carried that frog home proudly one Friday afternoon, and set to work on makeshift operating table. I guess, in a sense, I’ve liked operating for a ling time.
As part of learning about frog anatomy for all these dissections, we learned about how their eyes differ from human eyes. In order to focus, a frog’s lens doesn’t change shape (like a human’s) but rather moves closer to the pupil. I remember misunderstanding this concept and assuming that the frog had to move his whole body to focus on something. I had images of all these frogs hopping to and fro in order to clearly see. Those poor frogs!
This month I am doing vascular surgery. For most of our operations we wear loupes – those are those funny glasses with the magnifying lenses on the bottoms. Loupes are custom built, and the focus is set at a distance that is comfortable for your hands to work at. But when I’m assisting during surgery, sometimes my hands are not at an ideal distance from eyes. In other words, sometimes I am working out-of-focus. And the only real way to change that is to move my whole head closer or further from the field, as needed. In my mind, I’m a little like those frogs I used to imagine, hopping forward or backward to better get a clearer view of things.
It’s funny how a change in position can change your focus. A step backward often makes things just seem more clear. And while I’m glad the poor frogs don’t really have to do all that hopping, when things are confusing to me I often try to remind myself that hopping backwards may be all that’s needed.
Today is a beautiful day – sunny, clear, and crisp. And I am at the hospital, on call, with my loupes at the ready. And today, things just seem clear.
